


let's keep it between us

by vtforpedro



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Married Life, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: In which Bilbo is fond of coffee and Thorin Oakenshield.





	let's keep it between us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thequeercolonel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeercolonel/gifts).



Bilbo inhales the haunting aroma of rich chocolate and bright citrus and leans back in his chair.

Coffee.

It has been a very long time since he’s had coffee. Years, in fact, and that makes his heart twinge in pain.  
  
Coffee is an expensive commodity in the Shire, but nearly unheard of in Erebor. Some of the lands outside of the Shire where the coffee bean was cultivated were far to the east of Mordor, and thus impossible to trade with. And since no one seemed to think the Shire grew much of anything beyond tobacco it stayed a well kept secret in their pantries.

Thorin had certainly never heard of coffee - blasphemy, truly - but Oin and Balin had. They had assisted Bilbo in writing to the Shire and sending gold to cover the costs of the bean, to be delivered as quickly as possible. Bilbo had expected some resistance from his fellow hobbits but they had surprised him by sending three barrels worth of coffee beans, to be enjoyed by Bilbo and any of his dwarves that he so chooses, according to Hamfast Gamgee.

Bilbo had been so delighted that he had been lightheaded, which earned him no small amount of teasing from Thorin. But Bilbo had warned him to not underestimate the power of a good cup of coffee. It seemed a very dwarvish drink when Bilbo had thought about it and he was eager to introduce the company to the wonders of the bean.

When he’d had his own fill at any rate.

Bilbo’s mug is filled with strongly brewed coffee and a dash of cream and sugar. He sips on it and feels the warmth spread down to his fingers and toes. It’s mildly bitter and mildly sweet, just the way he likes it, and he sags happily in the chair as he drinks.

It might be late for a first cup of coffee - half past eleven at night, according to the clock - but it has never affected Bilbo the way it seems to affect some of the hobbits in the Shire. Hyperactivity, the healers had called it, and mostly only seen in the younger generations. Coffee has a habit of putting Bilbo to sleep and he had thoroughly explained this to an unconvinced Oin.

He’s well into his third cup of the evening when Thorin enters their shared study.

“There you are!” Bilbo says as he furiously scribbles down ideas for numerous novels on a piece of parchment. “It’s nearly midnight, you know.”

“It’s nearly two,” Thorin says with an undercurrent of amusement. He sounds exhausted otherwise.

Bilbo looks up at him and blinks. “Goodness, is it already?” he asks and glances at the clock with a frown. “I hadn’t even noticed. Why on earth are you in here? Go to bed. I’ll join you soon!”

Thorin smiles. “Perhaps I would like to spend some time with you before _we_ go to bed,” he says as he walks to Bilbo’s side. “Dis and Dain butted heads for so long that the council grew confused as to what we were discussing for the majority of the evening.”

“That’s why you’re so late?” Bilbo asks as he takes Thorin’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. It’s cold and trembling a bit and now that Thorin is closer, Bilbo can see the dark circles under his eyes. “My love, you’re exhausted and I don’t think I will be anytime soon.”

Thorin eyes Bilbo and the nearly empty mug in front of him. “You did not listen to Oin.”

Bilbo scoffs. “I told you and Oin already, it doesn’t do anything to me but make me a bit sleepy.”

“Hmm,” Thorin hums as he inspects Bilbo’s numerous parchment papers filled with rambling notes and half-formed ideas spread across the desk. “Sleepy indeed.”  
  
“Yes, ha ha ha,” Bilbo says as he shuffles papers into some semblance of organization. “This is merely creative energy.”

Thorin chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to Bilbo’s temple. “Tell me of your day,” he says and, instead of sitting at his own desk or the sofa in front of the fire, he slides to the floor and leans against the side of Bilbo’s desk. “Keep my mind off of my own.”

Bilbo smiles a little and reaches down to squeeze Thorin’s shoulder. “At least take the crown off.”

“Mmm.”

Thorin doesn’t make any move to do so but rather folds his hands in his lap and leans his head back against the desk. He’s dressed in the finery reserved for large council meetings, with luxuriously silky tunics and massive furred cloaks that make Thorin sweat in the height of summer. He doesn’t wear the raven crown of his grandfather but a smaller, more simple oaken branch made of mithril wrapped around petrified wood. It’s lovely but can’t be entirely comfortable after a day of wearing it.

Bilbo huffs a little. “Would you like me to start by telling you that I forgot to eat second breakfast because I was too busy cleaning up Fili’s horrid attempt at knitting a scarf for a certain someone? Or perhaps you’d prefer my tale of the exploding wine casks in the kitchens? No, no… you must want to hear of my first cup of coffee.”

Thorin laughs in the husky way he does before falling asleep or shortly after waking up. “Tell me everything from the beginning,” he murmurs. “Begin at first breakfast with that handsome husband of yours.”

“That’s hardly interesting at all,” Bilbo says blandly. “He kept trying to play footsie with me under the table.”

And, as Thorin chuckles warmly again, Bilbo begins to recite his day to him.

It’s something they do when one of them has had a tiring day, and Bilbo wouldn’t trade it for the world. He doesn’t have nearly as many stressful days as Thorin, but it’s still a wonder to be thrust into Thorin’s world when he needs to hear his husband’s deep, soothing voice. Bilbo stays out of politics, at least in the eyes of most of the dwarves, so he only rarely glimpses life in council chambers. He’s much better off doing the accounts with Gloin and heading the kitchens with Bombur.

If Thorin tends to follow any advice Bilbo gives him when it comes to running the mountain, well, that’s between them and Balin.

It is Thorin who often needs to listen to how Bilbo’s days go. To immerse himself in what Bilbo does with his time if he can’t join him, to escape the life of a king, if only for the time it takes Bilbo to tell him of his day. It would worry Bilbo more if he hadn’t convinced Thorin to take a day off every week to refresh his mind and relax his body.

He needs far more than four days off a month, Bilbo thinks, but that’s a bridge he’s still attempting to cross.

“Did you know there’s a cat in the east that eats coffee beans and doesn’t always digest them fully? Well, you’ll be shocked to learn what some people will do about that,” Bilbo says as he’s finishing up speaking about his day some time later. “They collect—”

Thorin snores loudly enough to rattle the mountain.

“Ah,” Bilbo says and smiles to himself as he glances at the top of Thorin’s head. He frowns.

Thorin’s chin is pressed to his chest, his neck tilted at an awkward angle, and the mithril crown has come to rest over his nose. Bilbo sighs and comes around the desk to stand in front of him.

“Thorin,” he whispers.

Thorin merely continues to snore.

“Bother,” Bilbo says and carefully removes the crown, minding Thorin’s hair. He doesn’t wake and Bilbo gently shakes his shoulder. “Thorin, let’s get you to bed.”

There is no response other than continued earth-shattering snores and Bilbo taps his foot on the floor. Thorin’s neck will hurt sooner rather than later and he’ll regret sleeping on the stone floor in the morning if Bilbo can’t move him.

That is a problem in itself, however. How on earth is Bilbo going to move Thorin?

He thinks he can at least get Thorin to the sofa in front of the hearth. No matter how wide awake he feels, he thinks trying to carry Thorin through their study and their rooms to the bedroom would prove to be one feat he couldn’t accomplish, no matter how hard he tried.

“You’re very large,” he tells Thorin grumpily. “I could have done this before you grew a fondness for my blackberry pies.”

It’s a blatant lie but Thorin isn’t awake to call him out on it, so Bilbo nods in satisfaction. He rubs his hands together as he debates on the method he should use to get Thorin to the sofa. Carrying him is out of the question, unless he wants to crack open both their heads, and dragging him seems frightfully rude, but how else might he get Thorin there?

“Boots,” Bilbo mumbles and kneels at Thorin’s feet to remove the hideously large and heavy contraptions. “I’ll have you know that’s fifty pounds gone right there.”

Thorin merely grumbles in his sleep and continues snoring.  
  
Bilbo doesn’t see any way that he might remove the furred coat without disturbing Thorin so he decides to leave it be. He takes up Thorin’s hand and gently pulls him by it.

He doesn’t move an inch.

“Blast,” Bilbo says and eyes Thorin critically.

Getting Thorin onto his back seems the easiest way to begin. He puts an arm around Thorin’s shoulders and carefully slides him away from the desk until Thorin slumps heavily against him. Bilbo tries not to lose his balance at the sudden weight across his chest but he manages to back away until Thorin’s head is in his lap and gently lays him fully on the floor.

Thorin mumbles a little but resumes snoring shortly after and Bilbo gapes at him.

“You woke if a pin dropped on the entire quest but the moment we’re here, it’s like trying to wake the dead!” Bilbo says and throws his arms in the air as he stands. “Now what am I supposed to do with you?”

He paces the room as he thinks and on his fourth journey behind Thorin’s head, he stops and points his finger in the air. “Belts!”

Bilbo hurries out of the study and across their rooms into the bedroom. He fetches two large belts from Thorin’s wardrobe, shiny black and silver things, and walks back into the study. Thorin is where he left him and Bilbo looks between his arms and the belts. He feels rather like a burglar that is about to steal Thorin’s dignity, but he can’t leave Thorin the way he is, and Thorin doesn’t seem like he will be waking on his own anytime soon.

It’ll only be for a moment, Bilbo thinks, as he begins wrapping one belt around Thorin’s arm, tucking it under his armpit. He does the same with the other belt and steps back to view his work. Thorin’s snoring is nearly too light to hear now but he doesn’t think much of that as he grabs the belts.

Bilbo takes in a few deep breaths to prepare himself. “One… two…”

“What… are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to the blasted sofa,” Bilbo says crossly to Thorin before he freezes. He gapes down at Thorin, who is staring up at him with one eye cracked open, an eyebrow raised high on his forehead. “Oh, hello.” He laughs nervously. “You looked very uncomfortable.”

Thorin looks at the belts under his armpits and Bilbo holding them both and blinks a little before he looks at Bilbo again. “This was your idea to make me more comfortable?”

“Well, once I got you to the sofa, yes,” Bilbo scoffs.

Thorin’s lips twitch before he furrows his brow. “And you did not try to wake me because…?”

“I did!” Bilbo whines. “You kept snoring loud enough to replace the bells.” He glares as Thorin’s twitching lips become a grin. “You would have had a nasty crick in your neck in the morning, I’ll have you know.”

“Then you have saved me much discomfort,” Thorin says regally. “Please continue taking me to the sofa.”

Bilbo can’t help but laugh. “I think I’d rather not now, thank you very much,” he says and smiles as he removes the belts. “Sorry, my love, but it seemed wrong not to try.”

“An ingenious idea,” Thorin says mildly as he sits up, his blue eyes heavy but twinkling mischievously. “How would you have gotten me on the sofa?”

“Hmm,” Bilbo hums. “Very carefully.”

Thorin reaches out suddenly and snags Bilbo fairly off his feet and pulls him, squawking, into his lap. He rubs his beard against Bilbo’s neck. “You would have saved my neck and sacrificed your back for it!”

Bilbo laughs and squirms until Thorin stops giving him beard burn. They grin at each other. “How do you suggest I wake you next time then?” he asks teasingly. “Toss some water on you?”

“I imagine there were many more ways you could have tried,” Thorin says with a smirk. “But now that you have gotten belts involved…”

“Oh no.”

“I can think of a few ways.”

Bilbo snickers. “That’s a conversation for another night, my dear,” he says and presses a kiss to Thorin’s nose. He stands and offers his hands. “Off to bed with you.”

Thorin takes his hands and stands with a low groan. He sighs as he peers at Bilbo with a frown. “Do you mean to join me?”

“I suppose the coffee did do the opposite of what I’m used to,” Bilbo admits begrudgingly. “But I’m rather tired now after… well, that.” He gestures to the belts on the floor.

Thorin smiles. “Off to bed with us then,” he says and presses a sweet kiss to Bilbo’s forehead.

They put out the fire and candles in the study and head to their bedroom. Bilbo changes into his pajamas as he watches Thorin sluggishly do the same. He wonders how he might be able to convince Thorin to take a much needed holiday, even if they never leave their rooms, and feels his heart twinge in sympathy.

Thorin might sleep like the dead most nights, but he still has nightmares that wake him or thoughts that never let him fall asleep. He needs rest, and kindness, and love and relaxation, and Bilbo can’t give him all of those things, as much as he wishes that he could. Thorin deserves the world and one day Bilbo will help him to realize that for himself.

_“Ghivashel.”_

Bilbo blinks and realizes he has been staring at Thorin from across their bed. Thorin is watching him with some concern. “Sorry,” he mutters and climbs into bed. “Lost in thought.”

“That I need a holiday,” Thorin says with a fond smile as he gets into bed next to Bilbo. He snuggles close, as he does every night, a strong arm wrapped around Bilbo’s middle.

“You’re very good at reading my mind,” Bilbo says and brushes a strand of Thorin’s hair off of his forehead.

“Balin and I have been discussing it.”

“Oh?”

“April is a mere month and a half away.”

“…yes, so it is.”

“Perhaps we should go on another quest.”

Bilbo smiles as his heart wells with love, with relief and with gratitude. “Where to?”

“I hear the Shire is beautiful in the summer.”

“Oh,” Bilbo sighs, “quite. Certainly worth a visit.”

“I also hear it might be a scandal for dwarves to run amok there.”

“Oh yes,” Bilbo says with put on seriousness, “quite a scandal.”

“Then let us scandalize them.”

Bilbo laughs and cards his fingers through Thorin’s hair. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” he smiles.

“And you can purchase all the coffee beans your heart desires while we are there.”  
  
“You’ve read my mind once again,” Bilbo grins.  
  
And he kisses Thorin then, and thinks of how lucky he is that he already has all his heart desires.

**Author's Note:**

> For [thequeercolonel](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thequeercolonel)! I'm so glad you like it!
> 
> And I hope you all do as well! It was so fun to write this. :) Thanks as always to my lovely beta [telltalelily](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/telltalelily) as well as [diskingoferebor](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/diskingoferebor) and [angelsallfire](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/angelsallfire) for their support!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vtforpedro)


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